Deb (aka DGBAY)

 

THE MORAL OF THE MOREL

I went back to the hill
Where I had found the most
I stood there real still
By my marking post

Two days before
I had picked with hope
Now there were no more
On that once yielding slope

I knew the end was here
My forehead wrinkled in discontent
I was so prepared with all my mushroom gear
But no more morels would most likely be sent

I wanted to cry
It ended so quickly
I breathed a big sigh
And sat down on a prickly

Now my disappointment
Changed to pain
And as I thought about miracle ointment
It began to rain

Walking out to go home
Thoughts flowing in my head
I put together this poem
And looked up and said

("Twas really a great year,
The number was pretty good")
And I was comforted to hear
That my mind understood

So...I'll be back
I'll wait for next season to begin
Dig out my mesh sack
And return with a grin
                                 ----- © 2001 Deborah G. A.

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